Burgled
by Ella-whispers-what
Summary: ' "You," says Fili, eyeballing him, "will do as you're told." Kili, laughing, holds up his hands in mock-surrender so Fíli grabs his wrists and slams him up against the wall so hard his teeth rattle.' A story in which Fili and Kili get naked, break stuff, and generally amuse, annoy and adore each other.
1. Disconcerting

**I just loved Bilbo's reaction to the dwarf party in his cosy hobbit hole, so I decided to have a little fun with it. This takes place in the midst of the madness, before Thorin arrives and before Bilbo has any idea what's going on.**

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Bilbo jumps as an over-full mug of ale is slammed down on the table in front of him. He can't help but whimper a little as the alcohol cascades over the beautiful pine-wood surface. I just polished that last week, he thinks sadly, but his thoughts are interrupted by the slamming down of two more mugs of ale next to the one that is presumably his, swiftly followed by the slamming down of two lithe, powerful-looking dwarves on the bench next to him. Bilbo takes a deep (if somewhat unsteady) breath and turns to face the newcomers with a nervous smile.

It's like facing a wall of solid dwarf. Side by side, they scrutinize him silently. Their eyes are hard like flint.

"So," says the blond one, critically. "This is him, is it?"

"Smaller than I expected," says the dark-haired one, leaning conspiratorially towards the other, so close that their shoulders are touching. They stare at him intently for a few seconds while Bilbo squirms. Then they grin, simultaneously. The effect is disconcerting to say the least. They have altogether too many teeth, he thinks. The blond one puts him in mind of a lion, while the other is just, well...odd. Bilbo starts to be seriously worried that they're going to eat him.

He swallows nervously and tries to smile again.

"We got burgled once," offers the dark-haired one nonsensically. Bilbo wonders if he is quite insane.

But apparently this comment is some kind of private joke, for they both laugh uproariously and turn towards each other so their faces are practically touching. The dark one makes a low growling noise in his throat and play-bites at the other's neck, grabbing his blond braids and yanking him even closer. The blond one's eyes flash with some emotion that Bilbo cannot name.

Dwarves are strange creatures, he decides. These two doubly so.

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**Sorry for the very short chapter – just getting warmed up. Later chapters will contain both more words and some smut, for I love both these things. Hurrah!**


	2. Drowning

**Am in an unprecedently good mood, having just seen my confession posted on Tolkien After Hours. It's the one about Thorin's fur coat, in case you care. So I thought I'd share the love – here's some Fíli/Kíli deliciousness for you all.**

**Disclaimer: Sorry Mr. Tolkien! I'm probably going to hell for this one, but I don't seem to care.**

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**About a year earlier…**

They tear into the house in the usual whirlwind that is Fíli-and-Kíli, scattering coats, gloves, weapons in their path. A good day hunting, and their spoils – five rabbits, three squirrels and a hare – are dumped triumphantly on the kitchen sideboard. Soon Fíli is pouring them both mugs of ale, Kíli lighting oil lamps and candles. The house is cold, and they both suddenly notice, silent.

Fíli pokes at the dying embers of the fire. "Make a fire now?" he muses, "or..?" He catches his brother's eye from across the room. A lift of an eyebrow and a slight smirk. It's a lazy and devious way to get what the reaction he wants but Kíli's so easy to play, it's just too tempting.

"Bed," growls Kíli suddenly, flinging furniture out of the way in his haste to get to his brother.

Fíli's ready for this, so he doesn't move an inch when Kíli crashes into him, although he has forgotten about the poker still in his hand, which flies out of his grasp and hits something in the corner of the room. There is the tinkle of breaking glass, but it's not important.

"Bed," agrees Fíli, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

But already Kíli is slip-slip-sliding to the ground in front of him, his hands tracing random lazy patterns down the backs of Fíli's thighs. Fíli's trousers come off so quickly that he's sure they were made for no other purpose than to be thrown across the room by Kíli.

It is not surprising that they never even get as far as the stairs.

No-one else in Middle Earth knows this, but Kíli can give the most sensuous blowjobs you can imagine. The sounds he makes in his throat that you can feel vibrating all the way up to your teeth. The way he stares at you through dark smouldering eyes so he can watch exactly what he's doing to you. As an added bonus, his mouth being otherwise occupied prevents Kíli from saying anything stupid for more than two minutes at a time. Fíli can't decide which is his favourite bit.

So he just closes his eyes and tips his head back, giving himself over entirely to the pleasures of Kíli's tongue. It's so all-consuming that at first he doesn't even notice. Doesn't notice Kíli's hands scrabbling on the floor for his bag. Doesn't notice the rope coiling round his wrists, or that he is being ever-so-gently pushed backwards towards the door. Doesn't notice in fact until it is too late, and he is firmly bound to the door handle. He gasps in surprise as his bonds go taut, and hears Kíli chuckle low in his throat.

"You bastard," says Fíli but he is laughing and secretly admiring his brother's sneakiness. Some people think Kíli is stupid (and Fíli would be the first to admit that those people would often be right) but there is a special brand of Kíli-cleverness that is ingenious – and reserved solely for mischief.

From his position on the floor, Kíli gives him his best seductive look. Which really is quite good. He's had a lot of practice lately.

Fíli waits, naked and bound, holding his breath. Then suddenly, Kíli's tongue flicks out and flashes over the tip of Fíli's cock, making him yelp with pleasure. And then again, as Fíli shudders, gasping for more. This time, it's just Kíli's breath that ghosts over him, searing hot and freezing cold at the same time, and somehow that's even more intense. Fíli's body twists of its own accord, trying desperately to get closer to his brother.

Kíli obliges, his hands smoothing over Fíli's thighs. His tongue traces each curve and contour of Fíli's cock, sliding over velvety smooth skin until there is not a millimetre left uncovered by his wet caress. His teeth lightly graze the tip, once, twice, three times, and each time he does, Fíli shakes and moans low and deep in his throat. Kíli's appreciative murmurs of pleasure reverberate all the way up Fíli's spine. He feels the ecstasy of knowing that Kíli's enjoying this as much as he is. When he takes the whole length of him in his mouth, the back of Fíli's head hits the door with a satisfying _thunk_.

Kíli plays him like an instrument, each suck and lick, each twist and turn of his fingers eliciting a new sound from Fíli. He spins it out, drawing him back and forth to the brink of orgasm. Until Fíli feels himself so close, so close to release now, and he is yelling and gasping and shaking and – and – suddenly – nothing…

His eyes snap open. Kíli is standing a clear three feet away, which might as well be miles because he's_ not touching him_ and the sudden loss is unbearable. Fíli staggers, as if the world has inexplicably disappeared beneath his feet. Only his bound hands keep him from falling to the floor. His eyes go wide with dismay. It's almost comical.

"Kíli! No! Don't stop!" he gasps.

There is a wicked look on his brother's face that makes him realise he's in real trouble.

"You look so hot," says Kíli, grinning, and it's perfectly true. Fíli's eyes are wild, his face flushed, his hair dishevelled, his braids unravelling. Panting, hot and hard against the door. His muscles rippling and straining against his bonds. Very obviously aroused. Naked save for his boots.

But even being the most erotic sight this side of the universe isn't helping his case any, for Kíli remains maddeningly out of reach.

Fíli breathes hard, trying to think, trying to get himself back under control. He feels desperate, feels he might shatter. He licks his lips. "Come here then," he says, low and tempting, but Kíli's having far too much fun with this. He fixes his eyes on his Fíli with a steely glare. Nonchalantly, he begins to unbuckle his wristguards, letting them drop carelessly to the floor. He wriggles out of his shirt, maddeningly slowly and chucks it at Fíli who shrugs it off with a growl. With the other hand, Kíli is very slowly and deliberately undoing his trousers.

"Kili…please…" begs Fíli. He feels like he's going to explode.

Kíli remembers the first time he discovered he could make his brother beg. His big, tough brother, who has never begged anyone for anything in his life – reduced to a gasping, pleading, wild-eyed mess by Kíli's hands and teeth and tongue.

When Kíli casually brings his finger to his mouth and sucks it, Fíli actually whimpers.

Kíli's hand slips inside his trousers. His eyes flutter closed as his hand begins to move.

"Kíli…" his brother groans desperately, "I…I need you…"

"Mmmm," murmurs the dark-haired devil. "Ohhhh…" His hand is moving faster now. "That's sooo good…" and it is, though truth be told, he's getting more pleasure from Fíli's reaction. He watches, fascinated, through half-closed eyes, as Fíli writhes against the door, his hands twisting and turning in their bonds. But Kíli is good at knots and he knows he's not going anywhere. The ropes cut cruelly into his wrists, but he cannot stop fighting the restraints. He cannot tear his eyes away from Kíli touching himself, Kíli moaning, Kíli – damn him to hell for being so hot…

Fíli looks like he's going to cry.

"Ohhh…" gasps Kíli, throwing his head back dramatically.

Fíli snarls, writhing in his bonds. "Kíli," he warns, "Get. Back. Here. Now."

OK, no, maybe not going to cry, thinks Kíli. But possibly going to kill him. Kíli shakes his head sadly as if it is all out of his control, and gives Fíli his best puppy-dog eyes look. He's been perfecting that one for a long time.

With a roar, Fíli slams his foot against the door in frustration so hard that the wood splinters beneath his heel.

Yep, definitely going to kill him. Kíli does his very best not to snigger. He's not entirely successful.

Fíli aims a vicious kick at him, which Kíli neatly sidesteps, laughing.

"You are _evil_," he growls.

"Oh what's the matter, big brother?" taunts Kíli. "Getting all hot and bothered?"

Fíli uses all the curse words he knows then invents a few more just for good measure. His skin burns from lack of Kíli's touch. His whole body throbs, desire shaking him to his core. His chest heaves, he gasps for breath , but it's Kíli he needs more, needs to feel him all over him, inside him, wants to dig his nails into his back, his teeth into his neck and – for the love of Aule, no! Kíli's trousers are sliding over his perfect hips and Fíli just loses all semblance of self-control.

"Fuck me – now!" he yells.

Kíli's eyes open wide in mock-outrage. "You are so bossy."

He stands in front of him, triumphant, naked. He looks glorious, right down to the wicked gleam in his eyes. But even the luck of supernaturally sexy creatures must run out some time and the point has come where Fíli's body just cannot wait any longer and with a degree of strength that terrifies them both, he rips the heavy door from its hinges, the wood around the handle shattering at the same time, and comes crashing forward with a roar and a flying cloud of golden hair.

With only a warning creak, the door comes hurtling towards them, narrowly missing Fíli's heels as he dives for his brother. This sudden brush with death does not trouble him in the slightest. With his typical single-minded determination, he flings his bound hands over his head so they are in front of him, pushes Kíli to his knees and, grabbing fistfuls of his dark hair, fucks him hard in the mouth.

He comes fast and hard, a wordless cry escaping him and the world blurs, dims and shakes as he explodes, waves crashing over him taking him down, deep, into darkness.

Kíli sucks, drinking him down eagerly. Fíli tastes like spices and oranges and woodsmoke and all the world's delicious things. Kíli sucks and swallows. And swallows and swallows again – and by Mahal, where is all this coming from? – and again and again and, just as Kíli's starting to get a bit worried (what if Fíli dehydrates and dies?) finally, he's spent.

He gasps and shudders as Kíli licks him clean, murmuring in the back of his throat. He unties Fíli's hands and gently massages the circulation back into his wrists, then moves up to rest his face against Fíli's belly, kissing the line of golden hair there. "You're my favourite taste," he whispers.

With shaking hands, Fíli tugs him up til their faces meet and tries to form words, but it appears that language has almost entirely left him.

"You…" he gasps.

"_Me_?" exclaims Kíli. His face is all innocence. "What about _you_? You nearly drowned me," he says seriously.

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**Naughty Kíli! Is it time for Fíli to get his revenge – what do you think?**

**Oh god, you have no idea how much fun this was to write! I'm still not sure if I'm any good at writing them sexy, but hey, I'm working on it. Please review – let me know if I'm doing it right!**

**Posting this, before I lose my nerve!**


	3. Revenge

**Why? Because I reckon the boys like it rough.**

**This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful beta, the super-lovely TeamDurango, who likes to see Kili pushed up against walls.**

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"You," says Fili, eyeballing him, "will do as you're told."

Kili, laughing, holds up his hands in mock-surrender so Fíli grabs his wrists and slams him up against the wall so hard his teeth rattle. Before he's had chance to recover, Fíli pushes his head back and bites him on the throat. His bites turn to kisses as he pushes Kíli's head this way and that, his lips leaving a trail of red marks all over his skin. Kíli writhes and moans under Fíli's rough love, bucking his hips away from the wall to push their bodies closer. Letting go of his wrists, Fíli slams his hips back against the wall with a warning growl, pushing Kíli just where he wants him. Later, much later, they will marvel at the bruises, the perfect imprint of Fíli's fingers across each hipbone.

They kiss, desperate and hungry, fighting for dominance, aching for release. Fíli digs his nails in, and it's oh so good but Kíli fights it anyway, shoves him roughly away just so he can feel him push back, and know that no-one else, no-one, ever, will make him feel this crazy. The wall is cold and hard against his bare skin, their flesh like fire everywhere they touch.

Fíli's eyes are dark with lust as he pulls deliciously at Kíli's bottom lip, tugging the soft flesh then grazing it with his teeth, then biting down hard, harder than he intends, and suddenly his mouth floods with the salty tang of blood. He draws back, shaking his head as if to clear it, and feels rather than hears Kíli cry out at the sudden pain, then Kíli's lips are on his and the taste of blood is between them and they tremble and gasp in each other's arms.

"Up," commands Fíli and Kíli obediently goes up on tiptoes to give him a better angle. This became easier since Kíli grew like a weed and is the real reason why Fíli just smirks when anyone's bold enough to tease him about his little brother being taller than he is. Kíli, desperate now, tugs him closer, needing to feel him deep inside.

"Slow down," warns Fíli, "or it'll hurt." For he doesn't really want to hurt him. Maybe just… teach him a lesson.

Kíli whines but slows, knowing he's right. Fíli, gentle now, soothes his heated skin with kisses, trailing up and down his throat, licking his stubble, taking his earlobe lightly in his teeth and running his tongue along the underside. This draws a ragged desperate moan from Kíli's mouth and his head tips back involuntarily, eyes closed, mouth open.

They rock gently together as they wait for Kíli's body to open up and let him in. Fíli watches his face intently, waiting for that moment when Kíli's eyes go wide with surprise, as they always do, when he feels Fíli slide inside him. It's kind of amusing but also desperately hot. They're both gasping with the intensity of it. They breathe into each other's mouths and as brown eyes gaze deeply into blue, the rest of the world disappears.

He groans as Kíli's impossibly long legs wrap around his waist, driving him deeper in. Kíli leans his head back against the wall, trusting his brother to take his full weight. His hands slide up Fíli's back and disappear into his thick golden mane, pulling and tugging, knowing this drives his brother wild. There came a point when they agreed that Kíli had to stop doing Fíli's braids in public – it was getting rather obvious. Fíli's back arches and he growls.

Their skin slick with sweat now, they move against each other, finding the perfect rhythm. Fíli's fingers are sliding up and down his sides, smoothing over strong, pliable muscle, losing himself in that sensation, playing with the pressure, feeling Kíli arch deliciously into his touch.

Fíli gazes into his brother's lust-drunk eyes. So beautiful. So trusting. So stupid.

Suddenly Kíli screeches and twists away from the wall. His legs collapse under him. For, without warning, Fíli's loving, caressing, gentle fingers have turned into relentless tickling machines.

Ever since they were tiny, Kíli has been outrageously, outlandishly ticklish. It's a significant weak spot when you have an older brother. When Kíli was being particularly relentless and annoying, sometimes it was the only way to win. Never let it be said that a Durin is afraid to fight dirty.

And Fíli knows his body like he knows his own, knows a million ways to pleasure him until he's gasping and reeling…and knows every ticklish spot Kíli possesses. Of which there are many.

"Ha ha ha… oh… Fíli! Nooo," he whines. "Stop it!" He writhes helplessly, laughter painfully shaking his body.

But Fíli still doesn't stop, tickling him mercilessly, slamming him back against the wall every time he tries to escape. He's still fucking him – hard – and the pleasure of that blurs hopelessly with the savage torture of the tickling until Kíli feels like his mind is unravelling and he doesn't know whether he's begging for mercy or screaming for more.

"Fíli!" he pleads, gasping for air.

Helpless with laughing so much it hurts, his legs flail wildly. One foot catches Fíli in the back – he gets a growl and another rough shove back against the wall for that. The other foot makes contact with the sideboard and whatever is on it – something very breakable by the sounds of it – goes skittering off the side. Fíli doesn't even flinch, just continues to tickle him relentlessly and Kíli's body is wildly out of his own control now. His limbs jerk like a rag doll. He can't breathe and his chest hurts from laughing. He can't see for the tears in his eyes. Between gasps, he begs and pleads for mercy.

"Fíli! I think I'm going to be sick!" he whimpers. He gathers his energy for a desperate shove, catching Fíli off guard, who loses both his balance and his grip on Kíli, and suddenly he's pitching to the side, heading rapidly face first towards the floor and its many shards of glass and china. It happens as if in slow motion and all he can see are sharp edges glinting, closer and closer. Fíli catches him at the last moment, strong arms around his waist, and Kíli sags gratefully into the embrace, his nerves quivering with relief. They are both breathing hard as Fíli pulls them upright. He touches his hand to Kíli's chin, turning his face towards him. There's fear in his eyes. "You OK?"

"More!" yells Kíli recklessly, so Fíli whirls him away from the wall and slams him over the table.

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**To be continued...in our very next issue :)**

**Well, that got a bit out of hand. Ahem.**

**Please review - I'm a review junkie. You don't have to say anything cool or clever - unless you wanna - just tell me your favourite bit!**


	4. Stars

**So sorry this took so long, life's been a little complicated lately. The biggest mistake I made was trying to write 3 chapters at once – it just means I don't finish any of them. On the plus side, chapter 4's already half done…**

**Big shout out to TeamDurango my beta – check out her work here u/4506114/TeamDurango – without her, this chapter wouldn't have happened at all. And between us, we've got all sorts of fun planned for them in the next chapter…**

** Oh, and please excuse me. I have a thing about Kíli's hair.**

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"More!" yells Kíli recklessly, so Fíli whirls him away from the wall and slams him over the table, pushing deep inside him once more and they both cry out involuntarily. Fíli leans over him, trailing kisses up and down his back, making him shiver when the cold beads of Fíli's braids catch against his skin. Kíli, his hands braced against the table, arches his back and feels Fíli moan in response. He closes his eyes, and pictures Fíli's face as he knows it must look right now: mouth open wide in pleasure as he thrusts into him.

Fíli gazes down admiringly at the gorgeous curves of Kíli's buttocks. It is an inspiring sight. He draws his hand back and delivers Kíli a resounding spank as hard as he can on his perfect ass. Kíli yelps in surprise and shoots him a murderous look over his shoulder.

"Owww! That hurt!"

"You love it," retorts Fíli smugly. Kíli is about to protest further but Fíli is laughing, a deep, throaty chuckle that Kíli can feel all the way through his body – it shakes him right down to his feet and makes him forget everything else, forget that they're two separate bodies, forget that they really shouldn't be doing this, forget that there's anything else in the world but the wildness of the two of them together like this. Then Fili pulls Kíli up to meet him, so his back is pressed against Fili's chest, and holds him there, whispering to him how good this feels. He catches a handful of Kíli's hair and pushes it out of the way so he can cover the nape of his neck in passionate kisses. Then he pushes him down on the table again, threads his fingers through Kíli's and squeezes his hand. Kili tries to want to resist as Fíli twists and turns him, pushes him this way and that – at any other time he'd hate having someone tell him what to do – but in the end it's just so good, Fili's so skilful at this, he's helpless. His head tips forward towards the table and he lets out a low moan.

Fíli reaches round and caresses his stomach, feeling the delicate flutter of strong muscles beneath smooth skin. Slowly, too slowly for Kíli, he slides his hand lower and squeezes his balls just a little too hard, grinning as Kíli cries out in pleasure-pain. So Fíli slides his fingers along the length of Kíli's cock, stroking him gently as Kíli gasps and shudders, desperate now for release. He can feel how close Kíli is now, his breath catching in his throat, his muscles tightening around him so he strokes him harder, then faster. With his other hand he pulls Kíli's hips towards him and holds him there as he slams into him again and again. Kíli's head snaps up as Fíli hits that spot inside him.

"By Mahal, that's good," gasps Fíli, and Kíli would agree but he's pretty much seeing stars by this point. His brother's name on his lips, Kíli comes into Fíli's hand and his cry of delight is so irresistible that Fíli is only a second behind him.

They collapse over the table, Fíli's face pressed into Kíli's back, messy kisses falling from his lips as they both gasp for air. They stay like that for a long time, their whole world filled with the sound of each other's heartbeats and the comfort of their naked bodies together.

It seems like centuries later when they can both stand upright again and Kíli turns and, taking Fíli's face in his hands, kisses him passionately. He rubs the pads of his thumbs over the high curve of Fíli's cheekbones and slips his tongue inside his mouth. He tugs playfully on Fíli's moustache braids. When his brother's eyes open, his gaze is soft and Kíli can see nothing but love there. Fíli's arms are around him, his fingers warm and sticky against Kíli's back. Fascinated, he watches as Fíli brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs, closing his eyes as he sucks.

"That is _filthy,_" breathes Kíli admiringly.

Fíli's eyes open. "Want some?" he whispers. Kíli makes a strangled sound in his throat that means something between 'yuk' and 'I think I'm going to pass out' and 'don't ever stop being so hot'. Though he has no words, he manages to nod. Bringing his filthy fingers up to Kíli's mouth, Fíli gives him a look that is so wanton he cannot breathe. Suddenly, without warning, Fíli plunges his hand into Kíli's hair and smears his come through the already tangled locks. Kíli's mouth opens comically wide in surprise and his brother roars with laughter. It is disgusting, but brilliant.

Kíli looks outraged, more at being tricked than anything else. "You're always messing with my hair!" he shouts.

"I like it," admits Fíli, stepping back a little to admire his handiwork. "It suits you. Makes you look like you've been up to no good. As usual." He tries to hide his grin but it's a half-hearted failure.

"Stop laughing at me!" Kíli grabs the nearest thing to hand – a mostly empty mug of ale as it happens - and chucks at his brother's head. Fíli ducks and it shatters against the wall behind him.

"You're getting too big for your boots, little brother," warns Fíli, narrowing his eyes. He knows being called little brother winds Kíli up more than anything, which is a good enough reason to do it at every available opportunity. They begin to circle each other, each watching the other intently. After all the fighting they've done together, they're pretty adept at this, at watching for the first signs of attack that no-one else would even notice. Naked, it's even more fun.

Kíli smiles, but the gleam in his eye puts Fíli on his guard. So he's not entirely unprepared when Kíli launches himself at him.

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**Review if you've ever wanted to spank Kili!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I just want to say how touched I am by all the attention this story's getting – thank you so much to all of you for your lovely reviews, follows and favourites – I really didn't expect this!**

**Anyway, as for this chapter: I want naked wrestling, said the beta. And I want it now. Her wish is my command.**

**Co-writing credits to TeamDurango for this chapter – all the really naughty bits are hers, I assure you ;)**

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**Chapter 5 : Throw Down**

It's not clear who throws who on to the table but suddenly they're a whirl of tangled limbs and flying hair. Kíli gets the upper hand at first and grins triumphantly as he pins his brother down and sits on his chest. Not for long though, as Fíli's knee slams into his back, knocking the air out of his chest with a gasp. He pitches forward and quick as lightning, Fíli has him face down on the table with his arms twisted behind his back. Kíli thrashes violently, snarling like a wild animal. Fíli yanks his wrists together and tries to hold them both with one hand but they're both so sweaty by now, he can't get a good grip. Kíli flails wildly, one fist connecting with Fíli's cheekbone, which knocks him off centre for just long enough for Kíli to twist round, wrap his legs round Fíli's waist and slam him back down onto the table. They're side by side now, slipping over each other's slick skin as they tussle, fighting for dominance. They can smell their sweat on each other's skin and it's intoxicating, as well as confusing. Neither of them is sure if they should be fucking or fighting right now.

Fighting wins, at least for now, as they roll over and over each other. Kíli may be faster but Fíli is stronger and soon has the younger one pinned on his back, his knee in his chest and his hands forcing Kíli's arms up above his head. He leans over him, teasing him with a wicked grin. So Kíli sinks his teeth into the hard muscle of Fíli's bicep, who snarls at the sudden pain. Kíli probably deserves it when Fíli whacks him round the head with his other hand, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. Fíli looks furious and is about to take his revenge when Kíli's lips collide with his in a savage kiss. Now they're pulling the other close rather than pushing away, their hands tangling in each other's hair, their tongues entwining. Their bodies slide over one another as Fili pushes himself forward, angling for Kíli's neck. He drags his tongue across the salty skin and Kíli's breath hitches in his throat. He rolls his head back to give Fíli better access, his eyes closing as he claws red marks all the way down Fíli's back which curves in pleasure at the sensation, grinding their bodies together.

The smell of sex still hangs thick in the air and Kíli loves it; it makes him feel devious. His eyes flash open and Fíli sees the look only a second too late. Before he knows it, Kíli's slammed him back down on the table with surprising force and their faces are mere inches apart as Kíli pins Fíli down by his shoulders. He snarls like an animal ready to pounce.

Fíli doesn't move, transfixed by the sight of his brother. He's savage and wild and beautiful when he's like this, sweat glistening on his skin, dark hair hanging in his eyes. Fíli bites his lower lip and holds his breath in anticipation as he watches Kíli lick his own lips, his breathing fast and heavy. Then, like an animal going in for the kill, Kíli collides their lips together and Fíli exhales, surrendering to the kiss. Their tongues slide against each other in hungry passion and lust flows between them in their deep growls. Suddenly a sharp pain shoots through Fíli's senses and he pulls away from the now laughing Kíli to feel his bottom lip. Drops of blood are already forming where his brother's teeth have been, trickling down his chin through his golden stubble and he drags the back of his hand across his mouth before shoving Kíli hard.

"You little shit – that's twice!" he says, half in surprise and half in laughter.

"I win," says Kíli cheekily. It's his only major mistake. Fíli kicks him in the chest, his heavy-soled boot colliding with Kíli's sternum. The force of it sends him flying off the table, tangling with a chair on his way down. There's the crunching sound of broken wood. Kíli doesn't even pause. Using the back of the chair as a springboard, he hurls himself back towards his brother. It's an impressive recovery, Fíli has to admit.

But it doesn't quite work. The chair goes one way, the table the other. His fingernails scrabble for purchase on the smooth surface, but it's too late and they're flying through the air. The heavy oak dining table hits the floor just a moment after they do, narrowly missing their sweaty, entangled bodies. Fíli's lucky. He lands on Kíli. Kíli's not. By the time they've tumbled to the ground, he's underneath and his head hits the floor with a sickening thud.

Fíli's eyes are wide with horror. Kíli's not moving. He lays a trembling hand on his chest. Heart still beating, thank Aule, and pretty fast at that. "Kíli?"

Kíli opens one eye gingerly. His face scrunches up. "Owwwww…"

Fíli breathes a sigh of relief. "Are you OK? I didn't mean to, I swear." He kneels over him, his knees either side of Kíli's thighs, and brushes a stray strand of hair, very gently, from his cheek.

"Fíli – owwww," he says pitifully. He makes sure to pull a really sad face and flutter his eyelashes a little bit, just in case Fíli didn't get the message.

Fíli rolls his eyes; nevertheless, he strokes Kíli's face comfortingly. "Oh come on, it can't be that bad," he says sweetly. "After all, brother, there's very little brain in there to damage."

"Oi!"

Fíli sniggers.

"You could," says Kíli, wincing, and making a feeble attempt to sit up, "at least try to be sympathetic."

"Ah Kíli, my love," intones Fíli, striking a dramatic pose. "What hast befallen thou? Oh my sweet Kíli!" He doesn't get any further, collapsing into helpless laughter and blocking Kíli's foot as he lashes out at him. Kíli scowls but relents, knowing that's as close as he'll get to an apology. Fíli never apologises. It's a big brother thing.

A headache he may have but Kíli does look gorgeous lying there on the floor beneath him, his dark hair fanned out around his head, his face flushed. Fíli takes pity on him. "Oh come here stupid," he says "and don't pout. You know that never works with me."

Kíli smirks; he knows that's not even slightly true. It works very single time, but he says nothing as Fíli moves to sit behind him, his arm round his chest, pulling him close. He presses a rough kiss to Kíli's temple and Kíli leans back into his brother's warm embrace.

"Here," says Fíli gently, "let me take the clasp out your hair. That's probably not helping. You're lucky you didn't end up with it embedded in your skull."

"Like Bifur," mumbles Kíli, his head throbbing.

Fíli stops and gives his strange brother a look. "I doubt that's what happened to Bifur, Kíli."

They look at each other and laugh, shaking their heads to clear this disturbing image.

Kíli's starting to feel better already, with Fíli's clever fingers working their usual magic, deftly undoing the clasp and teasing out the worst of the tangles. Already a lump is forming on the back of Kíli's head. Fíli chalks it up against his own shredded, rope-burnt wrists and the savage bites on his arm and lip; he still thinks Kíli's getting off lightly.

"That was fun," sighs Kíli contentedly, letting his head fall back on to Fíli's shoulder.

"Agreed," says Fíli, giving up on Kíli's tangled hair. It's a lost cause. "Though if you bite me again, I'm going to pull all your teeth out one by one."

From their cosy embrace on the floor, they observe the remains of what was on the table and is now all over the room – the contents of the fruit bowl, a few smashed glasses, drifts of letters and papers. It seems entirely justified. That was far too much fun to worry about the damage of mere objects.

"Come on," says Fíli after a while, "get up. I'm hungry." Kíli makes some unintelligible grumpy noises as he's hauled to his feet. They disentangle themselves from each other. Fíli's cautiously inspecting the bitemark on his arm (he'll pay for that later, he thinks with a smile) when all the air is suddenly knocked out of his body and it's his turn to be slammed up against the wall. "I didn't say stop," growls Kíli, his eyes wild and dark with lust.

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**Two more chapters to go. Unless anybody gives me some clever new ideas…**

**Don't be shy – leave a review!**


	6. Burning

**So sorry it's taken me so long to update. Life outside of Middle Earth is complicated and not as much fun. But writing about these two is nothing but a story was only supposed to be 5 chapters long. It's a bit like Pandora's box. And I'm not done playing with them yet.**

**Can I just clarify here, because there's been some confusion: YES, they are most definitely naked. Except with their boots on. Why? Because dwarf boots drive me wild. In chapter 2, there's a reference to Fíli being "naked save for his boots" while he's tied to the door. Pay attention: the boots are important.**

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**Chapter 6: Burning**

Fíli's head hits the wall with such force that one of his braids whips up and catches Kíli across the face, the sharp edge of the bead dragging a cut across his cheekbone. Blood wells up in a neat line and Kíli gasps, blinking hard. The rawness of the cut and the sharp sting as his sweat drips into the exposed flesh sets his senses tingling and his mind reeling. Fíli laughs, his teeth glinting white in the candlelight.

In retaliation, Kíli slams him up against the wall again. The objects on the mantelpiece rattle ominously, the candleflames flickering, dimming, then rising again. A vase of flowers nearly takes a tumble, the glass rattling as it teeters for a brief moment on its wooden perch. Red petals unloose themselves into the air, trembling on their descent to the ground. It's kind of beautiful, but not as beautiful as Fíli right now, tendrils of hair tumbling wildly from the confines of his braids.

But Fíli merely shrugs, holding his hands up against the wall in a relaxed, lazy gesture, palms facing out, mockingly casual. He looks stunning, right down to that maddening smirk on his gorgeous lips. Kíli decides another tactic is needed. He lets his hands fall from Fíli's shoulders, half-turns as if to walk away, then seems to change his mind at the last moment. Dipping his head to one side, he regards his brother through his tangles of dark hair. His lip curls in a sneer.

There's a flicker of interest on Fíli's face. Kíli keeps his carefully blank. Keep him guessing. Good. He signs the Iglishmek for 'turn around'. There's a slight lift of an eyebrow from Fíli, but he stays where he is. Kíli's hands move slowly and emphatically this time: the sign for 'NOW'.

It works. Fíli turns, holding his gaze over his shoulder for as long as possible as he does so, an intensity in his blue eyes that makes Kíli shiver with anticipation. Fíli turns his broad, muscled back towards his brother, braces his hands against the wall, and waits. Nothing happens for several long seconds. He's beginning to think it's all an elaborate trick, and is contemplating his revenge when suddenly he feels Kíli's lips, hot and wet on the back of his shoulder. Kíli trails down his spine, his mouth opening wide, his tongue flickering and curling over his skin. His fingertips slide over Fíli's hips, almost soft enough to tickle, definitely hard enough to have Fíli gasping, desperately needing more. He pushes his hips back into Kíli's hands, but Kíli ignores him, his mouth trailing lower, nipping gently at Fíli's smooth hot skin then soothing it with his tongue. Without warning, he drags his nails down Fíli's back, grinning when he hears his brother hiss in surprise. He moves lower, his tongue trailing teasing circles over the small of Fíli's back. Kíli's on his knees now, his tongue pausing at the top of the cleft of Fíli's buttocks. He slides his hands round from Fíli's hips, his archer's callouses dragging against the smooth skin, and presses with his thumbs to part the flesh. When Kíli's tongue slides inside him, Fíli actually screams with pleasure. White-hot heat rockets up his spine and he hears himself call out Kíli's name. Kíli's tongue curls inside him and Fíli cries out, slamming his hand against the wall. His breath is coming in gasps and moans now, as if he can't drag enough air into his lungs. His legs are shaking hard enough to give way, his upper body braced against his hands, his forehead pressed against the wall, feeling his own hot breath reflecting back onto his face. When Kíli rises from the floor, sliding up against his trembling body, he collapses gratefully back into his brother's arms. Kíli holds him tightly, so close that his lips brush against Fíli's ear. His voice is low and sultry. "Turn round," he breathes. "I want to see your face."

When Fíli turns round, he's a mess. He looks utterly wrecked. His hair is wild, a tangled mane framing his lovely face. His eyes are wide, the pupils huge, with only a faint rim of sapphire blue around them. He's doing what can only be described as panting. It's neither majestic nor prince-like but oh it does suit him. Kíli decides right then he needs to make his brother look like this as often as possible.

There's no going slow this time – neither of them can wait. Fíli grits his teeth against the momentary pain when Kíli enters him, wills his body to relax, then tips his head back, moaning, when the ecstasy begins.

"Harder," he commands and Kíli complies. A picture falls off the wall and shatters spectacularly all over the floor. Fíli doesn't even flinch. "Harder," he demands again, his voice a low, seductive growl.

How come you're still telling me what to do, thinks Kili, when you're the one pinned up against the wall?

But what does it matter when they both want the same thing? So he does whatever Fíli tells him, thrusting into him relentlessly as Fíli moans and gasps, fisting his hands in Kíli's hair, feeling like he's losing his mind. There's nothing in his world except Kíli deep inside him, and Kíli's hands and lips and tongue, all over him in dizzying combinations. His skin burns under the touch, his body writhing wildly of its own accord. The exposed brick of the wall collides roughly with his skin and he knows his back will be a shredded mess in the morning but he really doesn't care. Kíli's tongue is all over his throat, coaxing strange sounds out of him, unrecognisable even to his own ears. He yanks Kíli's hair hard, pulling him even closer. Kíli growls at the sudden pain and loses his balance momentarily, flinging his arm out to push himself back off the wall. His elbow slams into the candle on the mantelpiece, sending it flying. It cascades over the rug, which ignites and begins to blaze merrily, the flames licking dangerously close to their bare skin. Fíli stamps desperately at the flames. "Don't stop!" he gasps, digging his nails into Kíli's back. The smell of burning finally registers in Kíli's brain and he glances down briefly, sees his brother is dealing with it, and carries on regardless. Dwarf boots are hardy things, built for mountains and mineshafts, and they make short work of a few candleflames.

Dimly, through the haze of his lust and his mortal fear of being burned alive, Fíli praises the amazing foresight of his brother who decided earlier that it would be kinky if they did it with their boots on and was most insistent on the matter. Of course, it meant ripping off each other's clothes and then putting their boots back on, but it would otherwise have been Fíli's bare feet that would be currently stamping out the flames. While being fucked against the wall so deliciously hard by Kíli that they are both in danger of passing out, or at least knocking the wall down.

But out the corner of his eye he's horrified to see more flames, just starting to catch on the curtain. Fire, thinks Fíli wildly. There's not a lot of blood in his brain at this point and it takes him a while to make the connection. Fire – water! He makes a desperate swipe for the flower vase on the mantelpiece but can't quite reach – at least not without putting Kíli off his stride and he's loath to do that when this feels so good.

He makes one last heroic effort to reach the vase, his fingers scrabbling at the edge of the glass. It's hardly elegant, but it works. The vase topples, water cascading finally, thankfully, over the fire which hisses viciously, splutters then goes out. The clatter of broken glass is followed by the flowers falling softly in the ashes.

On balance, Fíli's glad the fire is out, though it was kind of exciting. His feet aren't even touching the ground anymore and he's not sure Kíli's are either. It's just the force of their fucking that's holding them up.

Their voices mingle in the air, wordless cries of love and lust and together they ride out their orgasm as the world seems to shatter around them as everything else disappears and dims, leaving them and them alone, together and whole and complete. Their legs shaking, they cling to each other and in a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs and hair and lust, they collapse into each other's arms, gasping for breath, sliding to the floor.

"Wait!" warns Fíli, catching his brother on the way down. He grabs his heavy fur coat from the armchair (at least something survived intact, he thinks) and flings it on the floor for them to lie on. And not a moment too late, for there is the crunch of broken glass beneath them as they slide on to it, clinging to each other, but the thick leather of the coat protects them both. They settle side by side, facing each other, so close their lips touch, breathing into each other's mouths, their hands sliding over each other's skin. This close, all they can see are each other's faces, and it's all they want and need.

Kíli lets his head fall forward on to his brother's shoulder and sighs contentedly. Fíli leans forward a little so they're resting cheek to cheek. He turns his face towards Kíli and breathes into his tangled hair. "You know I love you," he whispers. Kíli closes his eyes and lets the words reverberate around his skull. He could hear this a hundred times a day and never get tired of it, though he knows better than to ask for it. Lazily, he twirls one of Fíli's braids around his fingers. The clasp is long gone, lost somewhere in the devastation of the room. Fíli's fingertips drift over Kíli's face, exploring, soothing, memorising every curve. He kisses the cut on his cheekbone, ever so gently, his lips barely ghosting over the damaged skin.

"Ooh," whispers Kíli, "that tickles."

Fíli laughs softly but wickedly, a low, musical sound that Kíli can feel vibrate through his chest. "You want me to tickle you again? I thought you'd had enough last time."

"I can't get enough of you," Kíli whispers shyly, hiding his face in Fíli's shoulder.

Fíli smiles. He loves it when they push up each other up against walls and tumble off tables but he loves being together like this just as much. "You don't have to. I'm not going anywhere," he promises. Kíli's reply is muffled as he still has his face in Fíli's shoulder but his words are unmistakeable.

"I love you too," he whispers hoarsely.

Unexpectedly, Fíli laughs. Kíli appears from his hiding place in his brother's shoulder and peers at him curiously. "What?"

"I'll never understand you," Fíli says. "Too shy to look me in the face when you tell me you love me, yet not an hour ago you were bold enough to put your tongue up my arse." To his credit, Kíli actually blushes, which only make Fíli laugh more.

When they finally emerge from each other's arms and look around them, it's something of a surprise. There is not an object in the room that remains intact. Everything is broken, smashed, shattered, toppled or upside down. It looks like a tornado's just blown through the room. There is not a chance in hell that the neighbours didn't hear. But the boys are at last satisfied and that, they agree, is what matters.

"Can we sleep here?" murmurs Kíli drowsily.

Fíli laughs softly, and tugs on a lock of hair to annoy his brother into staying awake. Kíli's notorious for being able to fall asleep anywhere. "Yeah, if you really want to. But bed's more comfortable."

"Lucky you," says Kíli, making a half-hearted attempt to bat Fíli's hands away. "You get to carry me upstairs."

"Nah. I'll just drag you by your hair," says Fíli, but it's an empty threat and they both know it.

"We are so good at this," Kíli murmurs, his voice full of awe.

"Did you ever," says Fíli archly, nudging Kíli's head back so he can kiss his throat, "doubt that we would be?"

"No, course not." Kíli sighs and lets his eyes flutter closed. "Fee?"

"Mmmm? "

"We gotta stop trashing the house though."

Fíli groans. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

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**So, I was trying to write something about them that was anything other than "cute" - it's impossible I tell you! The cuteness just sneaks in. These two do whatever they want. Totally out of my control. **

**Heh heh. I made Kíli blush ;) Made myself blush as well, to be honest with you. This chapter's my favourite so far. I hope you liked it too.**


	7. Aftermath

**Well, this is the final chapter. This story has been so much fun to write that I'm a bit sad to let it finish.**

**Huge thanks yet again to TeamDurango my lovely beta-reader – you're awesome :)**

**Inspired by that post on the Thorin is so majestic tag on Tumblr where someone (Fíli I think) is yelling: Kíli put your pants back on where they should be! Which for some reason struck me as insanely funny. Only it's trousers not pants, obviously, cos I'm English.**

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**Chapter 7: Aftermath**

Arms draped lazily over each other's hips, they lie together, their eyes sliding shut, listening to the twin thud of their heartbeats. Their foreheads touching, they breathe in each other's breath. Kíli's hand rests on his chest and Fíli's fingers wrap tightly around it. He can still faintly taste himself on Kíli's lips. Kíli's mouth opens to the kiss and he makes a whimpering sound in his throat as Fíli's tongue slides inside. The kiss is slow and lazy, their lips brushing softly together.

A loud, jarring sound startles them from their moment of bliss. A knocking at the door and the low murmur of voices, somehow familiar, though it all seems a long way off and not at all important right now.

"Oh leave it," says Fíli indulgently, not even entertaining the idea of moving. "Who cares?" He pulls Kíli even closer and they kiss passionately.

Suddenly Kíli sits bolt upright, abruptly breaking their kiss.

"What? Kee, what's wrong?"

"We didn't lock the door!"

"Shit!"

They've never moved so fast. They scrabble for underwear, trousers and shirts among the debris. They're almost presentable by the time the door opens. Too late they realise they're wearing each other's shirts. On reflection, Fíli thinks this is probably best. Kíli's too-long sleeves hide the rope burns on his wrists. He doesn't even want to think about explaining that.

They hear the front door swing open, then the low rumble of Dwalin's voice and Bofur's soft melodic tones as they cross the front room. Another higher-pitched voice, speaking quickly, which turns out to be Ori. One by one, they appear in the doorway. The looks of surprise on their faces as they take in the damage are almost funny.

The three of them clamber over the remains of the door lying on the ground, its damaged wood splintering further beneath their heavy boots. It's hard to see the floor, covered as it is with smashed glass and china and scattered paper. One chair is balanced improbably on the fireguard, which hit the floor with an almighty crash some hours earlier. Another is entirely in pieces. The heavy oak dining table, the one it takes four grown dwarves to lift, is on its side in the middle of the room, its contents cascaded in a tumbling waterfall of chaos. Near the fireplace lie the remains of a glass vase, its flowers strewn across the floor. Their fragrance mingles with the smells of spilt beer and singed carpet. A trail of candlewax is a sculpture frozen in time, from mantelpiece to fireguard to floor. There is broken glass everywhere, glinting dangerously in the low light of the remaining candles.

"Oh no!" breathes Ori, his eyes wide with horror. "You've been _burgled_!"

"Umm," says Kíli uncertainly, then words apparently fail him.

"Yeah," says Fíli, as if he's just noticed the carnage. "Yeah!" he adds suddenly with more conviction. "It was like this when we got home!" He risks a quick sideways glance at Kíli, who's as still as if he's been turned to stone. Come on genius, work it out, prays Fíli silently, or we're both in trouble.

Dwalin growls. "Where are the bastards? I'll get them for you!" He flexes his fingers, his knuckle-dusters rattling ominously. Ori looks impressed.

Fíli's a creature of Middle Earth, so he doesn't know about facepalm. But if he did, he'd be doing just that right now.

"No!" says Kíli suddenly, as if startling out of a dream. "No…ummm…because…"

"…because we got them already!" finishes Fíli. He wants to whack Kíli round the head again right now. About as much help as an elf you are, he thinks crossly.

"Yeah, that's right," offers Kíli. "Yeah….um…" He trails off, glancing at Fíli for help.

"Caught them on the road out of the village. Gave them a good kicking, smashed their teeth in!" Fíli says animatedly, though his eyes flick tentatively towards his brother. This doesn't go unnoticed by anyone except Ori who is staring wide-eyed at the devastation.

"You boys all right?" asks Dwalin. He and Bofur regard them with concern, assessing the damage. Both brothers look dishevelled to say the least, their clothes torn and crumpled and their hair a wild mess that any respectable dwarf would be ashamed of. A bruise blooms on Fíli's left cheekbone. There is a fine cut below Kíli's right eye. They both look uncharacteristically nervous. Something's not right.

"We were waiting for you," offers Ori. "And you weren't there," he finishes sadly, and unnecessarily. Fíli remembers making vague plans about meeting up in the tavern, but he and Kíli had other things on their minds. Ori is more than a little drunk. He sways and staggers. Fíli and Kíli are fond of Ori and they both cast him sympathetic glances. They've been out drinking with Dwalin before. Even thinking about trying to keep up is not a good idea.

Dwalin and Bofur are asking him questions which Fíli does his best to answer, trying to keep it simple so he doesn't trip over his own lies. He shifts nervously under their scrutiny. He's aware he and Kíli must both reek of sex. Kíli is silent for once. They're careful not to look at each other. Fíli's head hurts. He just wants this to be over. He wants to be naked in Kíli's arms. He does not want to be interrogated about imaginary burglars. There are far too many dwarves in this room right now and he has no idea where his underwear is.

It's Ori who unwittingly breaks the tension, deciding the most helpful thing he can do right now is to start clearing up the mess. For some inexplicable reason, out of all the devastation, he chooses to pick up the flowers.

"Ori, no!" exclaims Kili, rushing to his aid. "Leave it - there's glass everywhere, you'll cut yourself."

"Oh Kíli! You're _limping_!" wails Ori, clutching him. "Are you OK?" His look of concern is so genuine that Kíli almost feels guilty.

Now Fíli appears to be having some kind of coughing fit, so Ori rushes to him instead. He tries to pat Fíli on the back comfortingly but it's less than effective as he's so drunk he almost misses and whacks Fíli in the face.

"Ori, I'm fine, really," insists Fíli when he can speak again. But Ori leans closer and squints at him. "What happened to your lip?" he asks curiously.

"Bit it," says Fíli quickly, shrugging off his concern. He figures it's less of a lie if he doesn't say who bit it. Ori starts trying to clear up the mess again and Fíli tries to stop him but really he's glad of the distraction. Behind him, he can hear Kíli telling a tale of their epic battle with the 'burglars'. Some of it he even re-enacts, with his usual flair for the dramatic, whirling his arms around, gesticulating wildly. The brothers are heroic in it, obviously. Fíli fights the urge to laugh. Kíli, he thinks. Best fuck in the known universe. Worst liar Middle Earth has ever seen.

Bofur is silent. The brothers look…odd. Flushed skin, eyes nervously bright. And what is up with Kíli's hair? It looks like even more of a bird's nest than usual. The lads do _look_ like they've been fighting…or something… With a sudden flash of insight, Bofur realises Kíli's pants are on backwards. Oh Mahal above, he thinks. Not again. He studiously looks down at the floor, his shoulders shaking silently as he fights a ripple of laughter. He daren't look at Dwalin. He really must have a word with them about being more discreet. Or at least less destructive. If Thorin finds out…he presumes Thorin doesn't already know, on account of how the boys are both still attached to their heads. How is it even _possible_ to cause this much destruction…he stops his train of thought there. He really doesn't want to know.

Dwalin is still asking the brothers questions. They're both looking a bit sorry for themselves now and, while they most definitely do deserve it, Bofur can't help but take pity on them.

"But I'm _tired_," wails Kíli petulantly. Dwalin rolls his eyes.

Bofur comes to their rescue. "Let the lads go to sleep," he says gently. "They've had enough trouble." They _are_ trouble, he thinks but does not say. He starts to herd Ori out the door, hoping Dwalin will follow. Ori's so drunk he's tripping over his own feet, babbling excitedly about Fíli and Kíli's epic encounter with their burglars and what heroes they are. He makes fervent promises to come back in the morning and help them clear up the mess.

"In the morning," says Bofur sagely, "you're going to have one hell of a headache, my lad. Come on, let's go."

Kíli closes the front door behind them and turns the key in the lock, the bolt making a reassuring sound as it slides home. When he turns round, Fíli looks puzzled. "I think Bofur just winked at me," he says, sounding confused.

Kíli reaches for him and he steps gratefully into the comforting circle of his brother's arms. They lean close, their foreheads touching and let out the breaths they've been holding for the last half hour. It _was_ funny…but it wasn't. That was far too close. Fíli rests his forehead on his brother's shoulder and Kíli puts an arm protectively round him. They stay like that for a long time.

When finally they draw back to look at each other, Kíli sighs. "You were great," he says, gazing at his brother adoringly.

"Yes," admits Fíli modestly. "You were useless."

"Sorry, Fee. I'm just not as good a liar as you. Besides," he adds cheekily, "I don't need to be because you always get us out of trouble. It's what big brothers do."

"Cute," says Fíli, rolling his eyes. "One of these days, I'm gonna leave you to clear up your own mess."

Kíli just laughs. Turning away, he catches sight of himself in the mirror. Here we go, thinks Fíli, raising his eyes heaven-ward.

"Look," says Kíli, pouting, "at the state of my hair!" It's a valid point. 'Bird's nest' doesn't quite cover it. Kíli looks like he's been dragged through a hedge backwards. He glares at Fíli. "This is your fault!"

"What about my wrists?" Fíli rolls his sleeves up, displaying livid red rope-burns on both wrists. Kíli has to admit it's pretty bad, but he hates to be outdone.

"My ass," counters Kíli, warming to his theme, "hurts like hell. I probably have a massive red mark shaped like your stupid clumsy hand!"

"I was nearly burned alive!"

"Well…" Kíli flounders for a moment but rallies admirably. "Ori says I'm limping!"

Fíli doesn't hesitate. "You threw us off a table!"

"You destroyed the door!"

Fíli laughs, for he knows he's won this round. "The door," he says, with what Kíli considers to be irritating smugness, "was most definitely your fault."

"You broke it!"

"Yes, but _you_", he says, jabbing Kíli in the chest with a finger, "turned me into a lunatic."

"Worth it though, wasn't it?" Kíli gives him a filthy grin. Their eyes lock. Kili reaches out, hooks his fingers in Fíli's belt and yanks him close. Fíli puts up no protest whatsoever.

"You look great in my shirt," says Kíli a little breathlessly, his eyes and then his fingers tracing the tear in it.

"You look ridiculous in mine," says Fíli, using that as an excuse to take it off and fling it across the room. He feels desire rise in him again. How can this be? he thinks with amazement. We just spent all night screwing each other and we still want more. I could do it all over again. A low moan escapes his lips as Kíli's hand slides between his thighs. He shivers deliciously as Kíli's fingers begin to disappear inside his trousers. But Kíli stops abruptly, raising an eyebrow. "Going commando, are we?"

"Couldn't find my pants," confesses Fíli, and they collapse against each other, laughing helplessly. It ruins the moment but it breaks any lingering tension over getting caught.

Their arms around each other's shoulders, they stumble towards the stairs. As they pass through the hallway, Kíli risks a look into the dining room.

"Don't look," says Fíli quickly. "Just shut the door and – ah."

Kíli gives him a withering look. "You shut the door, genius." He sneaks another look at the carnage. "Ma's gonna kill us when she gets back."

"It was the burglars, remember," says Fíli. Kíli sniggers.

Fíli yawns and stretches, flinging his arms up over his head. It's an easy, natural-looking gesture, but one that's carefully calculated for maximum effect. His muscles ripple temptingly and Kíli instantly forgets about the trashed room. "Now I think," says Fíli, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "some several hours ago, you promised to take me to bed."

Kíli smirks and gracefully performs a low and mocking bow.

"At your service, brother."

….

**The end! They may not be tired but I am.**

**Well, that is it. Sorry it took so long to get to the punchline. Admittedly there isn't much of a plot - it's all just an excuse to write some smut, for which I am not even slightly sorry. If you're reading this, then congratulations on making it to the end. Thank you for bearing with me and my increasingly bizarre sense of humour. These two bring out the worst in me ;) **


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